Trauma
by Warlordess
Summary: [Finished] AAMR, rated PG to PG-13 for dark plot themes. Ash feels somehow responsible when his best friend gets into a tramatic situation that he can't help her out of.
1. Chapter One

**By:** Chibi/Warlordess

**Notes:** A piece I wrote, reflecting an experience that happened recently in my life, only featured a little bit darker. If you're planning to take this too lightly, you might be a little wrong up in the head, but if you're planning on taking this horribly seriously, then I suggest you grab some tissues.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokemon. That's all you need to know in order to read this and not feel like suing.

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Ages:

Ash - 17 years old.

Misty - 19 years old.

Brock - 21 years old.

Mrs. Ketchum - 44 years old.

Anonymous characters:

About four years older than the end of the series.

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Trauma

Chapter One

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You know that feeling you get when something really tramatic happens in your life? It's like this constricting, laboring feeling... I mean, you can't breathe, you can't move, and it feels like everything around you has gone still and silent, and dark... All of the voices and noises that you'd originally be hearing all die away into the background and it's only you and the ground upon which your feet are standing.

I hate that feeling. I know quite a few people who have been able to go through life without experiencing it, but I think after today, that... I can truthfully say that I now know more who have.

There was so much wrong with that whole commotion.

Beep. Beep. Tick. Beep. Beep. Tick.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Beep. Tick. Tick. Drip. Beep. Beep. Tick. Drip. Drip.

I couldn't stand sitting there like that. I watched as the surgeon's and nurses and doctors moved in and out of my friend's room; I watched them come and go without any idea as to what was going on. One of them had looked at me earlier, as if to say, _"We're trying", _but I could tell that their hopes for success were slim and getting slimmer still.

But I could not give hope. After the hell she'd been through thus far, my friend was strong; and I wouldn't show her how weak I was feeling for her sake, when what she needed was strength from me most of all.

But all I could do was sit and hope that things would change. Because the situation was darkening, like a cloud on my doorstep, a curse that wouldn't fade from above my head.

-

When I'd first gotten the call from her, I was pretty shocked, but still very happy. We hadn't been in contact for almost three months. My job makes for a real time-stealer and she had to deal with the Gym now that her relatives were almost never there.

In any case, the call was lighthearted, if not suspiciously vague. She said that she was hoping to come pick me up and take me out. She said to wear something nice. She said to be waiting outside of my apartment in about a half-hour.

I loved her voice.

It was like the sea that she loved so much, comforting. And when she laughed, it was like a low-tide wave crashing against my shore. It was amazing.

Of course, I'd never told her how attached I was to her. But I think that it went without saying. After all, two years after I'd quit travelling around the world, and she still saw me as the little boy from Pallet Town who needed a coach, or a friend... Or both. Let's just say that it was still our worth keeping in contact with each other.

So, anyway, on with my story, I told her that I'd be ready, though I had no idea what for. I figured, what with the bomb-of-a-hint in which she told me to wear something presentable, that it was for a party. My brain had obviously grown as I aged.

I'm sure that my friend would comment that it was about damned time.

I got myself tidied up, grabbed my keys, and locked the door to my place, then headed down the stairs to the front of the building. I liked to look inconspicuous, so I drew a random pair of sunglasses from my pocket and put them over my eyes.

I grinned. I thought I looked slightly devilish. She would probably say something like I looked sexy. But, then again, I often confuse my dreams with reality. I'd never mentioned it to anyone, but I had a couple dreams about her. Not... Not those _types of dreams, but... You know... Just the types that would make no sense to my thirteen year old self. _

So I stood right inside the door of my apartment building for about five minutes, and then went outside. It was stuffy in there and she would be here any moment, so what did I have to worry about?

Five minutes passed.

Nothing much to worry about; everything was all right. Most likely there was some traffic on the highway keeping her busy. So I sat down on the staircase and watched the few cars pull in and out of the parking lot, busying myself with plucking nonsense pieces of grass out of the dirt beside me.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Well, by now I was slightly panicked. I mean, the highway was large, yes, but she only needed to drive about ten minutes on an easy day to get here. She told me in the beginning that she'd pick me up in about twenty minutes and yet, thirty-five minutes later, I was still here. Still, I waited, cautious to any vehicle pulling into the lot.

Thirty minutes passed.

I was now completely overthrown with worry. I didn't know what to do. I could look stupid and slightly creepy to whatever bystander that passed me, by sitting here with nothing to do, or I could go inside and call her on her cell phone to see what was up. Actually, something occured to me in that moment. She was probably calling me right then! I'd head up to my small home and open the door to the sound of my phone ringing. I'd pick it up and she'd say that she was sorry, but she was running impossibly late, but that she'd be here in a few minutes...

Nodding decidedly, I got up, dusted myself off, and flung open the main door to the complex building. I jogged up the six steps to my front door and jammed the key hurriedly into my lock. Was it just me, or was my phone ringing all ready?

It was just me. I opened my door and heard nothing, no ringing, no answering machine taking a message. Checking my caller I.D. told me that the last call I'd received had been from her, about fifty minutes ago.

I picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone number, absentmindedly undoing the knot in the cord...

-

That had been about fourteen hours ago.

My best friends were there with me as I watched everything happen. It was like a horribly vivid dream. After that moment in time when those eyes had met mine, and I'd heard that cry, everything returned to normal... Only the sounds and voices of danger for my friend stood out strongly among everything else. I heard shouting, and I heard that beeping speeding up, growing in volume...

All the while, my mother clutched my shoulder, like I was two years old again, watching my father fade away from me. I wasn't a child anymore; I wasn't so innocent and young. I had seen the evils of the world, I had met those people who could overthrow my happiness, who could change us all for the worse.

I looked up at my mom, as though silently telling her that I didn't need her as much as she thought, but she just gripped me tighter and, looking into her eyes, I noticed something. Such a strong sense of fear was dangling over us all, and not just myself... I realized then that my mom was groping at me for her own sake, not mine. My friend was like a daughter to her, the one she'd never had, as it was so commonly dubbed; she was the witty voice of reason that you could turn to when you needed help in making a decision.

I was ashamed at the moment. I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten, even if only for a minute, that I wasn't the only person losing something here. I'd thought only of myself, and of no one else, this entire time. Until now.

I let my hand grope my mom's, clutched her flesh just in time to feel a tear hit it. She was crying. Suddenly, I felt alienated from them all. All of those who'd come to be with me, all of those who'd come to be with _her_. During this time of desperate need, I hadn't shed one tear.

I've always been able to let myself go during situations where emotion was called for, but... Somehow... Today... I just couldn't stand to do it. I didn't understand what was wrong with me... It was the first time I'd never been able to cry. I wondered blandly if something was wrong with me, but then I understood. It wasn't that I wouldn't cry. I just... Couldn't.

I had spent every waking moment in worry, in panic for my friends life, and that panic, worry... It had taken up all of the emotional carraige I had available. I had no room left inside my empathy train for anything else at this point. Definetely not for more agony and not even for some relief.

But I felt like I needed to feel something, which means that it was lucky because, at this point, one of my friends was shaking me in order to gain my attention.

"C'mon Ash; they're ready to tell us how she's doing." Brock told me and I got to my feet, feeling my legs tremble below me like jello. I'd never felt this nervous before, this out of place.

"Right."

When we'd walked down the hall and entered some room that we could interpret as an office, we sat in a few of the chairs and waited for about five minutes. By the time the doctor had appeared and closed the door, my mind was all ready in the middle of making wild guesses at her condition.

"Welcome to my office." He nodded to every one of us and then gave a small smile that I couldn't read anything out of, "I'm glad that Miss Waterflower has so many friends here to help her in her time of need."

That's what he said to all of us, I knew, but that just wasn't what I heard and saw.

"Welcome to hell." He bowed a bit to let the horns upon his head more noticable and then smirked, showing some sharp and deadly fangs, "I'm glad to see that the Waterflower girl has so many scrumptiously delightful friends."

So sue me. I was delerious. I'd been awake for about eighteen hours now, and I just couldn't handle much more. The only reason that I was still awake now was so that I could hear of Misty's recovery status. I allowed myself a thought.

What if it wasn't about recovery status? What if it was about picking out her tombstone? Or if we knew whether she wanted to be buried with her family or cremated and thrown into the ocean that she loved so much?

"The reports have been filed by the officers on the scene and she's been through surgery successfully. At this point, the sustained injuries that we know of consist of a fractured hip and ankle, and open wounds upon the legs, arms, and forehead. She won't be up for awhile, but she's been stitched up nicely enough..."

My mind was like a spinning glass ball at this point, reeling in five different directions at once. Or more like a defendant in a court case, whose just found out that he was guilty, and was now waiting for the final verdict and conviction.

"...You should know, though, that she'll be fine."

My eyes widened and I felt a small, reassured grin coming to my face. She was okay... She was okay!

"...She'll be fine..."

-

**Notes:** The fic is not over. **I REPEAT THAT THE FIC IS NOT OVER**. Lol. Yes, I just wanted to be positive that I got through to you all. I plan on doing something that's about three chapters long, with a different health... You know what? I'm just going to stop there before I give away the whole plot. Let's just say that the suspense is not over. You'll want to stay tuned.


	2. Chapter Two

**By:** Chibi/Warlordess

**Notes:** Wow, the second chapter (out of three) of my newest fic, Trauma. Welcome anyone-whose-bothering-to-read-this! Lol. I guess I should have given a reason for Misty's condition... I just sort of thought that, what with her being on the way to Ash's place, and the injuries that were delivered to the audience, via fake doctor, it would have been obvious... I guess that I'll just have to tie it in to this chapter, somehow... Anyway, thanks for the reviews and I hope that you like this next piece!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the rights to Pokemon. You don't own the right to sue me.

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Ages:

Ash - 17 years old.

Misty - 19 years old.

Brock - 21 years old.

Mrs. Ketchum - 44 years old.

-

Trauma

Chapter Two

-

"The doctors said that, in about another week or so, I was going to be admitted into a rehabilitation home for physical therapy. So that I can learn to walk right with all of the pain and imbalance, you know?" Misty smiled reassuringly at me and, feeling it grow contagious, I returned it.

"Yea, well, I have nothing better to do so you know I'll be there for you, right?" I grabbed her hand and gave it a slight squeeze, my brow furrowing ever so slightly as the whole memory from three days before echoed once again in my mind.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and, slightly panicking, I let go of Misty's hand and turned to see a kindly nurse grinning at me through her spectacles.

"Miss Waterflower has more guests." She winked at us and we both turned away, blushing, in quiet denial of anything that may have happened before her arrival at the door.

Suddenly, May, Max, Brock, and my mother all sidled inside the door, balloons, cake, gift bags, and etc. filling their arms. Misty let out half a snort and, after a soft whimper that made my heart race with worry, explained her reaction to me.

"Isn't this ironic? I was on my way to pick you up to take you to this party we all arranged when the accident happened and, well, now there's a party being held for me, here." She gave another, softer laugh so that it wouldn't pain her as much and then turned to the younger Max, who, blushing, handed her a bouquet of wild flowers.

Max Beech had had a crush on Misty for awhile now, almost ever since she had given up Togepi in one of her greatest acts of selflessness so many years ago. He'd thought that she was an exceptional trainer and was awed by her control over her Gyarados. Especially after she had gone and I had let it slip in conversation that she hadn't owned that Pokemon before we split up, meaning that she'd had less time to tame it. And there was always the taking-care-of-Brocks-issues thing, when he'd attempted to jump the princess while she was unaware...

"Wait a minute... What?" I hadn't thought about the whole accident since it'd happened, rather afraid that the nightmare's of something much more horrible than the truth would invade my mind every night and manipulate it, "You were coming to take me to a... Oh, no... Misty, I'm..."

Brock must have heard this little bit of conversation because he rushed over to pull me away, "Can I have a word with you for a moment, Ash?" And he yanked me out the door.

"Brock, why'd I have to do it...? I as good as drove her car into that cement divider on the highway!" I felt myself choke bitterly on the words. I had known before that she was on her way to my place during the time of the accident, but the possibility that I could have been part of the problem... It just made me hate myself... And I have never been the type to hate anything before.

"Ash, don't you dare go all dark and depressed on me! You know damn well that you had absolutely nothing to do with Misty getting into that accident-"

"-Accept being the reason that she was even driving that day!" I grabbed my head and scowled, feeling a lump settle in my stomach, "Ugh! Man, now I feel like a criminal!" I didn't realize it then, but the time that I was spending right then, just moaning about how it felt to be the purpose of Misty's endangerment... Well, I should have known that there were better ways to spend it. But my mind was so riddled with guilt that I couldn't think about anything else. I just... Didn't have the ability to, "How can she even stand to look at me after what I did-"

"-Because she cares that much about you, idiot! Ash, Misty is a smart person! She's not going to blame you for something like this when it's not your fault! Listen to yourself! Do you know how stupid and impossible you're being? You're acting like a living, walking sin. You know fucking better than to be like this. You're better than that." Brock took me by the shoulders and pushed me backward into a chair, "Now, since you're going to act like such a child, I'm going to give you a timeout. Think about all of the crap you've been saying and chuck it into your mental wastebasket. And don't come back into Misty's room until you've chilled out completely." And he left me there to return to the others.

-

I picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone number, absentmindedly undoing the knot in the cord...

It rung for about ten seconds before the disconnection beep sounded.

"We're sorry; the number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please hang up and try again later." I sighed and placed the receiver back on the hook. This was just annoying. Then something occurred to me. Misty always had her cell phone on when she went out. And I knew that it hadn't been disconnected, so... What was going on?

I tried her house next. There was no answer, and Misty's answering machine was broken so I couldn't leave a message. I hung up the phone again and turned around.

Grabbing my jacket and beeper and running for the door, I removed my keys from their place in the lock. I knew something was wrong with this. I leapt down the stairs and made a mad dash for the street beyond my complex, slipping a bit on a small patch of late December ice.

I wandered much more slowly up the road, hoping that maybe I'd come across Misty's car driving past me while on my way. I didn't have a car of my own, so it would take a fifteen minute walk to her house. Unfortunately, I'd have to walk the long trek of the highway, no matter how wide and unsafe it was, because otherwise my walk would extend another fifteen minutes and I didn't feel that I had the time.

I hummed as I walked cautiously, avoiding anymore ice that was along the side of the road.

That's when I saw the detour sign, and the line of cars in front of the exit on the other side of the road. I didn't know what to think. Obviously something big had happened. Squinting a bit I realized that there was a car smashed into the wall dividing the northern and southern ramps. Debris was everywhere and there seemed to be a small spark of fire coming up from under the roof in the front. I whistled in dismay. Someone had obviously gone through a terrible ordeal.

Seeing the authorities, fire department, and ambulance park against the sidelines and begin to forcibly cut apart the surface of the car, I waited for the traffic to go by before making a run for them. I wanted to know what was up, and if I'd still be able to make a pass for Misty's house an exit up the road.

"Er... Excuse me..." I asked one of the officers, who was currently writing out a report and speaking into his walkie-talkie. Apparently the crew wasn't able to handle the accident successfully alone and needed some back-up. When I addressed him, he looked up, a wary expression upon his face, and I continued, "Look, I'm really sorry to disturb you in the middle of this thing, I'm sure that you don't have that much time, but I wanted to know if I could..."

The stretcher from the ambulance scooted past, and a body lay on top of it, an oxygen mask on the patient's face, and a blanket over the lower half of her body. her arms laid limply at her sides and eyes were half-closed and she seemed delirious and half-asleep.

Oh...

One of the paramedics placed a clothed hand on top of a wound on Misty's forehead in order to try and stop the blood from flowing so freely and the other one helped ready the small steel ramp of the hospital truck so that they could jump the stretcher into the back.

My...

That's when I heard a voice screaming. I was screaming. I couldn't get over Misty's disheveled, deathly, unbelievable appearance. My mind couldn't comprehend anything else at that moment, just Misty's face, in and out of view as she lay so still and silent, her glossy ocean like eyes barely able to ring with life.

God...

"Sir, please... I know that this is a bit much for an average man like you, but you need to get out of the vicinity. This is a private incident scene at this time." The man in uniform grasped my shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, thinking that I was just an innocent bystander who'd never witnessed something such as a stranger in such a horrible predicament.

"Mi..." I cried softly, as the paramedics began to close the doors, "Misty!" I jumped at them before they could lock them shut and tore them open, "Misty; what happened to you!" I shouted desperately, disbelieving as to the fate of my friend. The paramedic that I pushed aside in my haste to see her again looked at me, obviously confused, outraged, and worried. I turned to them, "Please, tell me what happened!"

"Son; you'll have to let the man go." The voice of the officer resounded in my ears and I came to, noticing for the first time that my hands had left the cold handlebars of the truck and were currently grasping the anonymous governmental worker's shoulders, "That's right... Now back away slowly... If you need assistance, I'm willing to help you out..." I felt myself ease off of the first man, "Now, what was it that you needed?"

"My friend...! She's my friend; her name's Misty! She was on her way to my place and she didn't arrive so I called her and she didn't pick up so I was on my way to her place when I saw the accident and I didn't know if it'd be okay and... **Don't you dare shut that door just yet!**_" I yelled as the man from before attempted to continue what he had been doing. _

"I'm sorry, but the young lady needs medical attention ASAP. He have to get her to Viridian Central and find her medical records." My last nerves being shot, I tried to make the two men understand.

"Listen...! She's my friend, Misty Waterflower! You have to let me go with her! Please!" I begged desperately, my mind blank of anything else.

"I'm sorry, son, but..." The officers voice died away.

-

"Ash... Ash, c'mon... Visiting hours will be over soon. You need to wake up." A female voice called out to me and I opened my eyes, catching myself in the middle of an exhausted yawn. May stood before me with a small smile on her face, but her deep sky blue eyes were still clouded in worry over the situation, "Misty's been requesting your presence." She gave a mock bow and small giggle and helped me up, obviously hoping to make me feel better.

"Please, just don't, May... I can't handle any laughing at this point..."

"Oh... Well... Why don't we talk a bit before you head back inside?" She was the first person who'd asked me to talk about it, about everything. I needed that at this point. I didn't think that I could have taken much more of anything without letting some emotional stress go first.

Giving a nod, I sat back in my seat, "Yea, actually... I think that's exactly what I need."

"So... I-I heard that you were there, you know, when they picked her up... I know this is hard-" She stated nervously, as I gulped at the memory, in order to withdraw any shouts that might have been reaching my throat, "-but I think that these things are best talked about quickly. My mom always told me that keeping things inside is like life. You live alone, you love alone, you die alone. I think that it's great to have friends and family who offer to be there for me, and converse with me when something like this happens. So I think that you'd benefit from it, too." A smile that seemed to reassure me, and my mouth dropped open as I began relaying everything that I could stand to remember.

"The car was so totaled that I couldn't recognize it at first, and so I didn't realize that..." I hardly ever stopped talking, not even to draw a single breath. By the time I was finished, my jaw wasn't the only one that had dropped.

"Wow; Ash, I'm so sorry... I've never seen something that bad, and I really can't believe that you were able to take it... I-I just..." A few tears had found their way to her eyes, "I never knew that you loved her so much, though." She gave me an almost motherly smile, somehow, almost like she was proud of me for something.

"Hang on a minute; I did _not _say that I was..." I started, but May grabbed my cheeks, a couple tears still falling down her face, and pulled at them, stopping me from talking.

"Please, Ash... You almost assaulted a police officer to ride in the ambulance with her, you never left the hospital after you arrived here, you don't eat at all unless she tells you to go get something... If you don't love her, than I consider it a very obsessive need." She joked.

I laid my head against the cement wall behind me and sighed, "Sometimes I kinda wonder if it is..." The silence that grew between us at this point was a strong one, and it seemed like it was everlasting. Searching for something to talk about, I said, "You know... Misty was... She was on her way to pick me up at my place for a party when-when it happened. I feel so friggen' responsible for this whole mess!" A sudden bridal anger swept over me, and I banged both of my fists into the chair arms, "Do you know how that feels, May? To be the cause of a friend almost losing their life? It's like a fork in the road; I took the wrong direction and made Misty take the fall for me...!"

Great; now I was crying. I felt like a foolish child who didn't understand the world and how it worked. Like a part of me was reverting back to my days as a Pokemon Trainer, when life was simple. Just train your Pokemon right, battle your hardest, and beat Team Rocket every single time they decided to attack so inconveniently.

"Ash, please...! You weren't even there when the accident happened! Maybe if you were superstitious and had wished her unwell today then you'd have a right to think that but right now, it just won't work! I won't pity you for something that you had nothing to do with... However, I will be a friend and help get you through something you couldn't help." She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close, and, surprisingly, this pissed me off even more.

Just let go... Just let go... Just let go... Just let go!

"Just let go of me, May!" I tugged away fiercely and heard her fall ungraciously to the floor.

She looked up at me with an expression that I couldn't decipher and I finally realized what a stupid move I'd just made. I couldn't seem to stop myself, though. It just seemed like she was some stranger, forcing her way into my private territory. And, for some unexplainable reason, I couldn't let her do that. So I just reacted.

"Ash..." She eased herself off of the linoleum floor and stepped backward, sighing.

"May, I'm sorry..." She was the only one who seemed to know that I wanted to talk about it... She was the only one who knew that I needed to talk about it... She was the only one, besides Misty, who could truly understand me right now...

"Ash, Misty really wants to talk to you before the nurses do their rounds and force us all to leave. I'm going to go get a... I'm just going to go." May gave a weak grin and started walking towards the elevator.

"I... I'm sorry! I'm real sorry, May!" I tried, hoping that she'd come back.

She turned quickly and winked assuredly at me, as if using that incomprehensible reasoning that I'd never known her to possess until today, "You've got nothing to apologize for, accept whatever you've left unsaid."

-

**Notes**: One more chapter to go, I guess. Now I'm not so sure... Anyway, review me and let me know what you think, email me if you have some suggestions or whatnot, or if you just want to chat! I'm a friendly lil' Pokeshipper, yes I am! Heh, heh... Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope that you still plan on staying tuned for the next update!


	3. Chapter Three

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Title: Trauma

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Author: Chibi/Warlordess

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Notes: Welcome to the third and (hopefully) final chapter of my fic. If this is, indeed, the case, I don't expect to write up a sequel or 'follow-up' fic, so please don't expect to read one. Sorry so say that so strictly but I'm not feeling too well, and my explanation will be explained in further detail below for those of you who care to know.

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Special note to readers: Okay, let me tell it to you straight. I love all of the comments that I've received from each and every one of you. I know I don't say much to you other than the obvious 'thanks' and 'I hope to get another from you soon', but I thrive on your positive comments and I'm proud to say that, ever since my largest-ever fic, Miss Discovery(!) was finished, that's all I've been getting. It's all thanks to you that I'm continuing to write, so kudos!

Anyway, I'm very sorry for the lateness of this chapter. The truth is, in case any of you missed the memo, this entire story is based on an experience of my own. The week before Xmas, my mother was in a car accident and everything you've been reading about Misty originally happened to her. I'm playing the role of Ash, I'm afraid, and so all of the 'raw, unbridled emotion' that you've been feeling so strongly is indeed strong because it's real for me. Also, for those of you who might think it strange, what with the romantic mentioning and whatnot, I did tweak it a bit, so rest your hearts, my friends.

This leads me to my last note; my health. I haven't been updating recently because I came down with a sudden infection that left me swollen and feverish, enough so to have to be taken to the hospital and admitted for about a week. Before this I was having a major problem with another round of Writer's Block, which I'm blaming on old age... Lol. In any case, an idea for this next and last part finally hit me and I'm hoping that everyone accepts it with ease, especially since I'm still 'down under'.

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Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Pokemon. You don't own the right to sue me.

oOoOo

Ages:

Ash - 17 years old.

Misty - 19 years old.

Brock - 21 years old.

May - 14 years old.

Mrs. Ketchum - 44 years old.

Any other characters are four to five years older than at the end of the Hoenn season of the series.

oOoOo

I wiped my brow in near exhaustion as I entered my small abode, my jacket being thrown off of my shoulder.

It was currently six-thirty p.m. on a Thursday night and I was just arriving home from a long, hard day at work. I had just about enough time now to take a quick shower and put some clean clothes on before catching the bus over to the rehabilitation center that Misty had been moved to almost a week and a half ago.

It had been over two weeks since that day at the hospital where I'd shoved May to the floor. I'd apologized countless times but she always seemed hell-bent on rejecting them, stating that I had nothing to be sorry for. I only snorted, knowing full well that I had plenty.

I was sorry for being such an idiot to my friends, sorry for dragging Pikachu out of Pallet town via leash and collar, for wishing oh-so many times at the beginning of his journey that I'd never met Misty, or that she would just disappear because of how much she annoyed me. I was also sorry for hurting my Pokemon at the gain of any badges or mere wins I added to my reputation, sorry that, in the end, nothing had come of the greatest dream I'd ever known.

Because I, Ash Ketchum, wasn't the current Pokemon Master, nor had I ever been. Ash Ketchum was a "regular guy" with a "regular, unknown name", the neighbor down the street that you could always count on for that extra cup of sugar, or to watch the house when you were out of town. I wasn't that special trainer with the special Pokemon and the special abilities, most unfortunately. I was just a random guy in a crowd of faceless people. It seemed that there was no longer anything brilliant about me.

After I had turned sixteen and had finished successfully in the Hoenn league (though not "on top", of course), I had decided to return home to Pallet in order to take a break. May and Max had preferred to stay home in order to be with their family, and weren't suited to traveling to another region just yet, so Brock and I went alone.

I knew something had been wrong as soon as I walked through the door. Objects were strewn everywhere, debris from the shattered windows all over the counters and floor. Nothing was in its right place anymore.

"...Mom! Mom, where are you!" Brock and I, panicked by what we'd seen upon our entrance, rushed into the living room and found my mother breathing heavily and leaning against the couch. She was in a lot of pain, most caused from the bruise forming under her hairline and the additional coming from the cuts and scrapes all over the rest of her body, "Oh, mom, are you all right? What happened?"

It seemed that, not only was she unable to reach the phone, she was unable to talk as well. So she raised her head as much as she could and stared pointedly at the wall, then shuddered and collapsed against the back of the seat again.

I felt Brock grasp my shoulder with a horrified gasp, and the two of us both looked up and gaped at the words written before us in a vibrant red fluid.

****

"We know that you're here... We will be back."

"Team Rocket..." I spat bitterly, knowing that the organization would have been out looking for me, obviously taking my trashing of their every plan seriously at long last, "Brock, quick; call an ambulance. My mom needs to get to the hospital. I'll see if there's anyone else in the house."

After checking the basement and upper level and finding nothing, and then allowing Pikachu to scurry along the floor, sniffing for any unfamiliar scents, I was satisfied for the time being. But after the ride to the hospital and my mother's diagnosis and treatment, I knew that it wouldn't be safe for her at home if she were to stay there alone. I couldn't leave her again.

And so I settled in back at home, with no one else to count on. Brock slept in on the couch for about a month, helping out around the house and making the meals until my mom was able to walk as easily as she could before. I wouldn't let her move at all without my help until then.

Team Rocket did return, enough times to create even larger messes, but I was able to hold off the more superior evil-doers with my Pokemon, while Brock handled some of the less experienced. The two of us were even able to convince some of the younger members to resign, and trained them up into a strong defensive force for the good of the people...

But, in the end, some things don't really matter.

I jumped out of the shower and hurriedly dried out my hair. I'd spent too much time reminiscing and had extended his cleaning longer than necessary. I was all ready going to have to break the rule about visiting hours ending at eight o'clock.

I replaced his coat again, grabbed my keys, and was just about to run out the door when I heard my phone ring.

Checking my watch and cursing, I ran back and picked it up, nervously tapping my fingers against the desk counter.

"Ash?"

"Misty; hi! Sorry about my running late, but I kinda lost track of the time. Don't worry, though. I'm on my way out the door this very..."

"...Don't bother, okay? You know that fever that I've had the past couple of days?" That's right. After Misty had been moved into the home and had been working so hard on learning how to walk again, and living in that hell-hole for almost a week, her temperature and condition had begun to rise slowly but steadily. It seemed that none of the antibiotics and pain killers the staff at the home gave her worked successfully.

"Yes, I remember..." I wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"W-well, the people here seem to think that it might be something a little more serious than a strain or a head cold... I'm going back to Viridian general. I just wanted to let you know because the ambulance will be here any moment... God, Ash, what the fuck did I do to deserve this? I-I..." Suddenly I heard her break down into tears, "Damnit! I'm sorry, Ash, I just can't stand this anymore... I'm in so much friggen pain that it feels like my flesh is searing off and my body is just being forced to melt into a puddle on the floor... This 'road to recovery' crap is taking too long!" I heard something bang into something else and knew that she'd slapped her fist against the surface of the small bedside table beside her.

I knew that everything that had been happening was taking its toll on her, but I also knew that Misty understood what the fruits of her labor would be.

"Don't worry, Myst, it'll be okay. As long as you have people next to you who love you, then it's all worth it, isn't it?" I knew now that I was closing in on the pressure point and the border line between "best friends" and "something more" but I couldn't help himself. Everybody needed a little reassurance now and then.

"...I-I know, but..." I could feel her smile against the phone line, "...But sometimes love isn't strong enough... And I hate making a big deal about all this, but..."

"But it is a big deal, Misty. You can't pretend that everything is just a game of checkers or something small like that. You were in a car accident. You were hurt in plenty of ways. But you have people there for you; don't ever forget that. I'm always going to be there when you need a hand, or a friend to lift you up. I have no problem with jumping in front of a car for you if it'll mean that we can see each other more than just an hour everyday." I laughed.

"Don't you dare joke like that, you idiot." Again, I could hear the laughter in her words, "Oh, no... They're here to take me back to the hospital. I guess that I'll see you..." She ended there, unsure of when I'd be able to make it now that the plans had changed.

"...In about ten minutes. I'll be there soon. See you!" And I hung up before she could say anything against it.

Little did I know that Misty had been hoping for me to say something like that ever since the beginning of our conversation.

oOoOo

The elevator door opened. I exited through it and, following the directions of the gaurd downstairs, managed to make it into the right room. And with only four mistakes! It's a good thing it had only been down a couple of hallways, right?

"They're taking more tests..." The fear in Misty's voice now was eminent and I understood why, "God, Ash... Does that mean that it's something important...? Something... Deadly? I don't want to die..." Her hair was looking frazzled and dry and her face was pale and sagging so that it made her looked three times her actual age.

"It might be, but you are not going to die, Misty. You've made far too much progress to go down now, remember? C'mon, what happened to the Misty I know and love?" I caught myself there. _That's twice in one day that you've slipped up, Mr. Pokemon Master_, "Erm, well, you know what I mean..."

"I... I guess that I do..." I was sort of flattered when I looked back at up at her and found her as red as myself. At least that proved that I wasn't feeling the tension alone.

Her IV was still pumping liquid food into her arm and the EKG was following through with placing the beating of her heart on the line of paper in the machine. The silence was broken, therefore, only by the beeps and clinks of the two hospital appliances. No one else was there to interrupt us besides the occasional nurse that walked in to take Misty's vitals, in which she would give me a panicked look when she saw the fever on the small temperature gage.

All throughout this, I never let go of her hand, and she didn't seem to mind. Our heads were soon gently leaning into each other as we began to doze off. What with my working everyday before I came over and Misty being so sick, it was all we could manage to do at the moment.

"...Do you really, Ash...?" Her drone of a whisper made my eyes snap open and I yawned before quirking a wondrous eyebrow at her, "I mean, do you... You know, do you...?" I turned my head the smallest bit (we were still sort of hanging on to each other at the noggin) and questioned her, "Do you love me?"

I guess I could tell you that it was sort of one of those horribly beautiful moments between two certain people. You know the type I'm talking about. Where the world seems to disappear and all voices and sounds die out and all you can see are those stunning, extraordinary, perfect eyes staring back at you. Yes, I think that's what it was, actually.

"Mm... You have no idea how much, Myst..." And then I turned back to leaning into the crook of her neck and circling her palm with my thumb.

"Yea, I think I do." I could feel her smile, somehow, and it made me feel that I'd done something right for the first time in a few years. Everything seemed complete for us at that point in time.

oOoOo

__

So that's my story, really. I think that's everything. You can call it a love story, or a tragedy, or a suspense thriller. I don't care. But I can tell you that, if you were wondering or worried about what happened to Misty Waterflower, you've been doing so for no reason.

It turned out that she had a mild case of Pneumonia. It was nothing serious, especially since she was in the good hands of the doctors and nurses and everyone in between at Viridian General. She recovered from that bout and her health escalated as she continued through her physical therapy. She's still having a small bit of trouble currently, but it's nothing that we can't handle together.

You see, she moved in with me a few months after the whole car accident. I think it's what everyone expected, and definitely what we two had wanted. I help her out everyday by cooking (it's never been her strongest suit) and everything, she helps with the cleaning and things while I'm at work... I guess that this living arrangement really works out for us.

...You see, that's why I'm going to go ahead and attempt to make it permanent.

oOoOo

****

Notes: Cut! And that's a wrap! All right everyone, good job! Best I've ever seen, really. I think the most appreciation goes out to the wonderful reviews! Whether you're at Creativity Forums, or whatnot, you've done a magnificent job of putting up with the wait for this last chapter while giving the author wonderful ideas, inspiration, and coaxing through her troubled times. I owe so much to you all!

So, um... Oh, yes. Reviews would be very much appreciated. I hope to get plenty of positive comments and, hopefully, some criticism... But I'm not exactly looking forward to any flames. The last one I got was at the end of Miss Discovery(!) so don't make me have a panic attack by giving me threatening mail or insertions in your reviews. Chibi dun like that. Lol.


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